Uncharted: Grander Mysteries
by Last Year's Model
Summary: A young Nate and Flynn embark on an adventure to the grand canyon in order to investigate a popular myth regarding its ties to ancient civilizations. Will they find their answers and reveal history's dark secrets, or come away empty-handed?
1. Pulling a Fast One

**AN:** Hey, all! This is the first ever collaborative fiction written by ChickGamerNicole and Woman of Rohan here on FFnet. We're both very passionate about Uncharted, so we've decided to give this a whirl with this story, focusing on a possible adventure that Nate and Flynn could have had in their younger years. Any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated, and we hope you enjoy it as we try out something new!

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><p>"<em>Truth is the property of no individual but is the treasure of all men."<em>

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

**Chapter 1**

**Pulling a Fast One  
><strong>

Eyes glued to the endless stacks of research material upon his desk, one fact was painfully apparent to Nate.

He couldn't do this one alone.

He'd been on his fair share of solo adventures, of course. Uncovering the past was his calling, and treasure-hunting was his addiction... with or without somebody accompanying him. But this one was going to be a little more complicated, and a lot more under the radar. He'd need help, and furthermore, it couldn't come in the form of Sully... for _technical _reasons.

With his usual partner nicked off his list of worthy assistants, Drake had some phone calls to make. He'd made his way about halfway through his journal of contact information before he thumbed over a familiar name: Harry Flynn.

Nate and Flynn had only met on a couple of brief business occasions, mostly some information-swapping and chit-chatting about their line of work. He'd been introduced to him through a friend of a friend, and they had hit it off pretty well. He didn't actually remember their last encounter too much, as they'd done some heavy drinking in a little bar on the West Coast. If there was one thing Flynn knew how to do, it was kick back and have a good time, but he was also just as passionate as he was. If he remembered correctly, his father had sparked his interest in the business. A family thing. If he needed a partner, short of Sullivan, Flynn seemed the most logical and worthy choice.

He might not be interested in Nate's current job, especially since it was so local, but it was worth a shot. With eagerness bubbling in his chest, he picked up the phone and dialed.

A few brief minutes later, and Nate was pocketing his cell phone, hardly believing that Flynn had actually agreed to meet up with him in a few short hours. He barely had time to register the news when he heard the distinctive, and vulgar, sound of Sully cursing from across the hallway. He crossed the kitchen of his modest apartment and peeked his head out the door just in time to see him emerging from his own living quarters, apparently struggling to get his luggage through the doorway.

Nate couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, but he made his way over to him, nonetheless.

"Need a hand there, old timer?"

Sully regarded him with a smile, wiping a hand across his forehead.

"Ah, thanks Nate. My back ain't what it used to be."

"No problem. What have you got in here, anyway?" he asked, voice strained as he lifted the bag from the floor and headed toward the stairs. "A ton of bricks?"

"Just the usual, kid," said Sully, following suit. "Various items for... _business _negotiations_._"

In the language of Victor Sullivan, that meant gold, guns, and greenbacks: the three G's of treasure hunting. Ah, Nate knew them all too well.

"I see. So, Jamaica, eh? Been a while since you've been there."

"Yeah, a couple years. Too long if you ask me."

Nate was amused by the fact that his friend's usual attire of Havana shirts and khaki pants would fit right in with the tropical climate and laid-back atmosphere of the island. He could go for a vacation himself. Florida wasn't bad in the autumn months, but it certainly wasn't the Caribbean. Normally he'd tag along with him as the wingman, but it was peak season for business at Sully's Bar, and someone had to man the fort while he was gone.

It was actually opportune timing that Sully would be away on business. The last time Nate had mentioned his most recent job prospect, he had vehemently persuaded him to drop the idea altogether. He'd said a lot of things... that he was in over his head, that it wasn't worth his time, that the trail had run cold, et cetera, but Nate would hear none of it. Sully should have known by now that telling him _not _to do something would only make matters worse.

If there was one quality the duo shared, it was their stubbornness. Now that Flynn was in the picture, and Sully would soon be out of it for a short time, Nate was going to do as he wished. The catch was, he just couldn't let him know about it. Not yet, at least...

They made their way down the stairs and out to the front of the apartment complex where Sully's car was parked. Nate loaded up his stuff and turned to face his friend, who produced one of his signature cigars from his pocket.

"Thanks again, kid."

"No problem." Nate pulled him into a hug, patting him on the back. "Bring me back something nice, yeah?"

Sully flashed a mischievous grin. "Pick your poison, booze or broads?"

"Well, one of them might get through customs easier. "

"The broad it is, then."

They both laughed, and Sully got into the car while Nate leaned on the frame of the open window.

"Be careful, old man. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"No guarantees," he winked. "Try not to mess the place up too badly, alright? Last time was hell on your rent."

"Yeah, well, that was a one-time thing, I promise. See ya, Sully."

"Be back in a few days. You know the drill, call me if you need anything."

"Will do. Now get outta here, the girls are waitin'."

With the cigar hanging idly at the corner of his mouth as he continued to grin, Sully drove off, leaving a trail of dust and cigar smoke in his midst. As Nate watched him go, he placed a palm over his eyes to block out the midday sun. He felt only mildly bad that he was pulling the wool over his mentor's eyes. If all went as planned, and he was sure that it would, Sully would return none-the-wiser, and Nate would have some extra cash to his name, and perhaps a bit of fame as an added bonus.

Smiling a little to himself, he turned back towards the apartment complex. He'd be expecting company in a few hours, and there was much to be done. For once, Nate had a good feeling about this one.


	2. The Proposal

_"Mental reminder for myself: Drake _is_ bad luck. He's bad luck."_

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**The Proposal**

"The Grand Canyon? You're barking mad, mate."

With a beer in hand, Flynn settled back against his chair as Nate proceeded to hold up various books and articles for display, one by one, as he sat across from him. They were currently situated at Nate's "work station" which was actually a table in the backroom of Sully's Bar, completely covered in newspapers, books, and print-outs of articles and photographs. To the average person, it looked like nothing but clutter, but to Nate... it was where he thrived.

"Don't lose faith in me just yet, buddy," said Nate, as he flipped through the pages of the book within his hand. He tried to suppress the feelings of regret that he was suddenly feeling as Flynn regarded him with an air of indifference. "There's more."

Flynn rolled his eyes. "Oh fantastic, just when I was about to doze off."

"Just, listen, okay? Back in 1909, an article was published in the_ Phoenix Gazette _about the discoveries made by Professor S.A. Jordan and his partner G.E. Kinkaid of the Smithsonian Institution... here, you can see a copy of the original article here."

He came to the correct page, and handed the open book to Flynn.

"And...how this is relevant to what you're proposing?"

Nate could tell that Flynn was becoming a bit impatient with his ramblings. The jetlagged Brit had traveled several hours to meet up with him, and he couldn't blame him for wanting his efforts to be worthwhile. Much like Sully, he was all about getting to the climax. Some people just simply weren't interested in good old-fashioned research. Still, he was certain that what he had to say next would fully engage Flynn's interest... and if that failed, he had an endless supply of beer to throw his way if he needed a bit more motivation.

"Well," Nate continued, "supposedly they went on an expedition to the Canyon in search of minerals. They didn't say what kind, exactly, but that's not really important. They found something a lot better..."

He stood for the sake of effect, and Flynn merely took another sip of his drink as Nate began pacing around the table.

"We're talkin' big, Flynn. Real big. Imagine an entire system of tunnels carved into the canyon itself, filled with weaponry, hieroglyphs, a workshop... and even _mummies_."

Nate held up a few more photos, and was a bit disappointed by Flynn's rather unamused expression.

"So, what?" Flynn shrugged. "Those natives were there?"

"Not exactly. These weren't your textbook Indian tribes like the Anasazi...in fact, they say that the hieroglyphs were _Egyptian _in origin."

"Well, that doesn't make any bloody sense." Flynn was now shaking his head in between sips of his drink. "If it's such a big find, why haven't we heard of this before? It's like these blokes just completely disappeared without a trace."

"Yeah, seems that way. Nobody heard much of them after the article was published. Which is sketchy enough in itself, but here's the thing... people are still researching this today, and if you were to call up the Smithsonian and ask about their involvement, they'll claim that the two men never existed."

Flynn rose a single dark eyebrow.

"Shady, right? So, I figure it could be one of two things. Either this whole story's an elaborate hoax..."

"... or maybe something silly like your Government offing them..."

"_Exactly_."

Nate paused at last, pressing his palms flat on the table and leaning in towards his friend to further emphasize his point.

"Flynn, do you realize how huge this is? If we can prove that ancient civilizations came to America before Columbus himself... if we can actually find _physical _evidence of this... I mean, it's earth-shattering. We'd completely alter history. "

"I was joking by the way," Harry said before placing his empty bottle upon the table. "What's in it for us? And not just that we'll be 'discovering' more of your silly American history. I'll just be clear on this: It doesn't spark my interest."

"Well, history is written by the victors, right? How will we know otherwise unless we see for ourselves? Not to mention the fact that some of the stuff down there is likely to be pretty valuable."

At that, Flynn seemed to perk up a bit, and he made a mental note to mention the prospect of treasure much sooner into their next conversation. Nate grinned, holding a hand out for Flynn to shake.

"So what do you say, buddy? To fame and fortune?"

Flynn looked as if he was weighing the pros and cons of it. Nate knew how he functioned by now. He just hoped that it was in his favor. There was a pause in which Nate was almost convinced that he'd say no...but then...

"I still think you're utterly mad," he said with a smirk. "But you can count me in, _partner_."

Flynn took his hand, and Nate's grin only widened as he shook it. To fame and fortune, indeed...


End file.
